


it rained down like (pain)

by amosanguis



Series: author's fave [106]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Flashbacks, Grief Sex, Guilt, M/M, Magic Revealed, Non-Linear Narrative, Percival-centric, Post-Episode: s0402 The Darkest Hour, Protective Gwaine, Protective Percival, title from a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 12:02:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14810991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: Percival remembers all the times Lancelot couldn't stop talking about the Very Special, Very Brave, Very Beautiful Man who lived in Camelot as he and Merlin seek comfort together after the events of The Darkest Hour.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Believer" by Imagine Dragons, because apparently this is my song for them now.

-z-

 

(“He’s special,” Lancelot says.

Percival rolls his eyes.)

 

-x-

 

It’s not that Percival blames anyone for what happened to Lancelot – Lancelot made his decision, he made the choice to sacrifice himself – but it still _hurts_.

Merlin comes out with his head in his hands and tears in his eyes and Lancelot’s name on his lips and Percival, for the briefest second, feels nothing but rage.

(“So long as we’ve got our Merlin,” Lancelot slurs, patting the cheek of the manservant whose forehead had not five minutes ago _thunked_ against the tavern table, “we cannot die.”

Percival, while trying to figure out which Lancelot he should focus on, just lifts an eyebrow.

Lancelot grins. “Trust me on this, old friend,” he says, not nearly as quietly as he thinks, but quiet enough they can’t be heard over the other patrons – namely Gwaine as he taught Elyan the finer aspects of dancing atop a table. “Merlin here is the strongest of us. He can protect us.”

Percival just _hmm_ ’d and nodded his head at both Lancelots in front of him and finished what was left in his tankard.

The next week, when Percival is wiping blood from his sword and staring at the countless dead around him – he can’t help but notice that none of those dead are wearing Camelot colors and that, in their midst, stood Merlin, and he wonders if perhaps there was some truth to Lancelot’s words after all.)

“What happened?” Percival asks.

Merlin says nothing and then Arthur and Gwaine are stepping up beside him – and no one else follows them.

“Where is Lancelot?” Percival presses, grabbing Merlin’s elbow.

Merlin looks up at him and he simply whispers, “Gone. He’s gone.” He opens his mouth again like he wants to say something else, but whatever it is it dies in his throat.

(The campfire roars at Percival’s back and he’s only half-awake when he hears someone talking.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Merlin says, his voice low, almost lost on the crackling of the fire.

“I think you’d find a way to manage,” Lancelot says, chuckling.

“Not _well_ ,” Merlin argues. “It’s been hard without having someone who knows about me. Who can help me with this.”

“I can think of a few men here who could help you,” Lancelot says.

“These men,” Merlin starts, pausing and Percival could swear he could feel Merlin’s gaze sweeping over him, “their loyalty lies with Arthur. Should one of them find out about me they’d surely tell him and then Albion would never come to be.”

Lancelot snorts, says, “I could never see Gwaine choosing Arthur over you.”

Percival thinks, half-dreaming, that Lancelot had Percival’s loyalty – and if it came down to it, Percival would follow Lancelot’s direction. As he follows that thought and wonders at it, he loses track of what Merlin says next and what Lancelot responds with – before tuning the both of them out and focusing on just the sounds of the fire and the heat of it at his back.)

Merlin doesn’t speak the whole of the way back to Camelot, choosing instead to ride at the rear, his head hung low and simply trusting his horse to go in the right direction.

Gwaine rides close to Percival and says, “They were good friends for a long time.”

Percival nods.

Even before he and Lancelot had traveled to Camelot after first receiving word from Merlin, Lancelot couldn’t help but talk about Merlin – everything from his courage to his cunning to his looks – and sparing just a few words for the Prince himself. It was to the point that Percival had believed Lancelot only answered Merlin’s request for aid just for the chance to see him again – the notion that Lancelot could have been so taken with someone was enough of a reason for Percival to join him.

Percival looks over his shoulder, glancing at Merlin now – the boy was hunched over in his saddle, looking for all the world as if he was going to keel over. Percival shares a meaningful look with Gwaine before he slows his horse.

(Lancelot smiles at the sky, the sun shining down bright on them before he looks at Percival.

“You’ll see what I mean when you meet him,” he says, taking a step into the lake, towards Percival. “When he smiles, you can’t help but do the same. When he cries, you can’t help but do the same.”)

Percival doesn’t say anything as he guides his horse in close to Merlin’s, he just gently takes the reins in one hand and lifts Merlin out of his saddle with the other. It’s a sign of how bad things were that Merlin hardly reacts at all, just settles his back against Percival’s chest and lets Percival pull his cloak tight around them.

(“You sound like you’re in love with him,” Percival says, grinning to soften the accusation as he pulls Lancelot in close.

“Everyone’s just a little in love with him,” Lancelot snickers even as he reaches between them, takes Percival in hand.)

Percival pulls Merlin tight against him and holds him there for the rest of the ride home.

 

-

 

Percival dismounts first, then he helps Merlin down.

But Merlin doesn’t step away. Instead, he turns into Percival, his forehead pressing hard against Percival’s chainmail. Once again, Percival pulls his cloak around them before he leans forward and presses a soft, gentle kiss to the crown of Merlin’s head.

“It’s alright,” he says.

Then Merlin is looking up at him and there’s a silent question in his eyes – one that Percival already knows the answer to as he gently guides Merlin away from the square. He feels eyes on them as they leave, but Percival doesn’t dare look back to see who it is that’s watching them.

 

-

 

They’re standing just inside Percival’s quarters when Merlin turns to him, says, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. The gatekeeper – she wouldn’t take me.”

Percival kisses Merlin’s lips then, pulls back just enough to say, “I don’t blame you.”

A tear escapes Merlin’s eye. “Someone needs to.”

“Is that what you need from me?” Percival asks.

Merlin nods as he reaches up and grips lightly at the back of Percival’s neck, he chokes on a sob as he whispers, “Please.”

 

-

 

 _Everyone’s just a little in love with him_.

Percival watches as Merlin sinks down on him and thinks that truer words had never been spoken.

 

-

 

Percival had thought things would look different in the morning light – he thought there’d be a simple unspoken promise to never talk about this again. He should’ve known better with Merlin.

Merlin wakes him up with a gentle kiss and a whispered, “Thank you,” before he’s gone.

When he’s back at Percival’s door that night and the night after that and the night after that – and Percival doesn’t question it. He just opens his door and his room and gives everything he can to Merlin.

Sometimes it’s gentle.

Most of the time it’s not.

They take their grief and anger out on each other – and when, a week into whatever this is, Percival feels something tighten its grip around his wrists and watches as Merlin’s eyes flash gold in the dark, he gasps and everything slots into place. Merlin’s eyes are still burning bright as he leans forward, “Don’t be scared,” he says as his lips move against Percival’s.

“I’m not,” Percival says, putting as much sincerity as he can into his voice. Then he thrusts up hard and surges forward as much as his invisible restraints allow to kiss Merlin hard and passionate.

From there, Merlin seems to unfurl around Percival – becoming freer and more relaxed around him – to the point that he lets Percival wrap himself around Merlin as Merlin himself nuzzles into Percival’s chest.

 

-

 

If the other knights notice, they say nothing.

Except Gwaine, of course.

Gwaine had taken to making subtly-veiled threats about cutting Percival to pieces to feed to wyverns should “Anything, anything _at all_ ” make Merlin sad. Percival had looked Gwaine in the eye and said, “I’d hand you the blade,” and that was all it had taken to put Gwaine at ease.

Merlin had simply looked between them before shaking his head and muttering darkly about knights and their possessive tendencies.

 

-x-

 

(“He’s special,” Lancelot says, his voice low as they walk through the forest Merlin’s letter had said they’d be in. “You’ll see.”

Percival rolls his eyes.

Then they hear shouting and they see the soldiers and the boulders are easy enough to move. It’s when they’re meeting with the group that’s come out of the other side of the chasm, and Percival’s eyes zero in on the only person who could possibly be Merlin, that Percival thinks: _Oh_.

And from there – he’s gone.

He doesn’t fall right away, though – that takes a year and a battle and the devastating loss of Lancelot – before he and that special boy come together, and once they do, in that dark moment of their shared guilt and grief, Percival finds he can’t let go.

And neither can Merlin.)

 

-z-

 

End.


	2. Deleted Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 deleted scenes from the previous chapter that didn't quite fit.  
> \--Percival defends Merlin.  
> \--Merlin defends Percival.  
> \--Percival gets to finally meet the (dragon) fam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has only been given a cursory edit, please forgive any mistakes.

-z-

 

There’s a new knight-to-be in Camelot, the young son of some distant lord who’d just come of age. The boy is arrogant with a mean-streak a mile wide and Percival doesn’t spare him a moment’s thought until he watches as the boy zeroes in on Merlin, his lips curling into a snarl.

It angers Percival that Merlin can’t defend himself like he’s truly able to – it was inherently unfair.

Percival glances at Merlin and they share a look and it’s all the permission Percival needs before he advances on the noble and, using his height and size, made more impressive by the armor and chainmail and billowing red cloak, makes the boy cower as he desperately tries to plead his case. But it’s too late because soon it’s not just Percival looming tall over him – he’s joined by Gwaine and Leon and Elyan, Arthur casually watching the goings-on as he stands beside Merlin.

Arthur eventually calls his knights off, leaving the noble in the dirt.

 

-

 

“How do you do it?” Percival asks Merlin later that night, as they share Percival’s dinner. “How are you able to just pretend to be a servant when you have so much power?”

Merlin snorts. “Please. I’ve dealt with Arthur for years – one little noble used to getting his way and bullying his servants is hardly something that I’d risk exposing my magic for.”

Percival quirks an eyebrow. Then he leans forward and asks in a low whisper, “Have you ever pranked Arthur with your magic?”

“I would _never_ ,” Merlin fakes a scoff as he puts his hand to his chest. “That donkey spell was one-hundred percent the goblin and the only reason it took a full week to wear off is because, _clearly_ , the Prince was tired and _not getting enough rest_.”

Percival rolls his eyes even as laughter bubbles up from deep in his chest. “ _Clearly_ ,” he says, echoing Merlin.

“Clearly,” Merlin repeats, throwing a bean at Percival’s face – Percival just catches it and eats it before he stands and drags Merlin to bed.

 

-z-

 

It’s the two of the them on the road when the bandits attack.

Merlin smirks and waves Percival down, gesturing for him to sheathe his sword.

“Allow me, sir knight,” he says.

 

-

 

They are surrounded by the dead and, though it’s not the first time this has happened – it’s the _first time_ since Percival had learned of Merlin’s magic, it’s the _first time_ he can watch as Merlin’s eyes flash and an unnatural and furious wind whips up around them as thunder rumbles and shakes the earth and their enemies fall quickly before them.

Percival celebrates the occasion by blowing Merlin against a tree.

 

-z-

 

Percival coos at Aithusa, the little dragon’s voice crackling as he tries to imitate the sounds Percival was making. When Percival looks over at Merlin – the sorcerer’s eyes have gone soft as he steps away from Kilgharrah, walking right up to Percival and pressing a sweet and tender kiss to the side of Percival’s mouth.

Behind Merlin, Kilgharrah snorts and says something like, “Well, I can’t say that I saw that one coming.”

Merlin puts his forehead against Percival’s, the both of them grinning at each other stupidly – they had come so far in the time they’d spent together, considering how all of this had started – before Merlin says, “I can’t say that I did, either.”

Between them, Aithusa spreads his wings and trills happily.

 

-z-

 

End. Maybe.


End file.
